


We Were Moulded

by KittyM



Series: We Were (Soul mates) [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 18:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4798439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyM/pseuds/KittyM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anya never really thought about her mark, Raven never really cared.</p>
<p>Soulmate fic, but this time it's Raven and Anya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Moulded

**Author's Note:**

> Not so cannon
> 
> Second chapter will be much more Anya and Raven heavy, I got a bit carried away with the princess mechanic in this one.

 

When Anya was born it was a relief. A deep expel of air hanging in the midst of wartime. Thick with heat, during the early morning, in a small room, it was a struggle but with little blood.

 

The commander had been sick for months, lying on a deathbed waiting to whisper the name of the next. But by the end of the birth, to the relief of everyone, he was still very much alive.

 

It took seven hours and three helpers but the baby lived, the newest addition to the great bloodline of the Knights, founders of the river clans.

 

She came from a long line of warriors, her brother, her mother, and her grandparents. All had lived, and most had died. The best healers, all the luxuries that Polis had to offer, tended to her mother, giving birth in a healing room rather than at home. But with all the war decorations her family had collected, all the respect, and all the skill, it couldn’t save her.

 

The labour started two months early, three months away from her brother’s assignment ending, and six months too late for her father. 

 

And so she was born alone, surrounded by furs, heated water, wooden toys, and purple embroider sheets.

 

Of course there were people there, frantically caring over her mother. Feeling her bloodlines, giving her medicine, cleaning, and stitching, trying to keep her warm, trying to keep her cool.

 

The product of one of the greatest couples that ever lived; who’s lives campaigned the union of the river and wood clans; the reason for the war that stormed outside. It is said that the baby’s first cry was indistinguishable from the sound of the war horn. Some even say the worn horn was the baby’s cry, as if her birth was also the birth of the union. Perhaps that is why her mother died, perhaps, her fight was over- at least that’s what was heard t

hrough the villages.

 

When it came to her seventh day, her name day, the baby could hardly breathe. Wearing the jewelled broach of her family crest, wrapped in a thick patchwork fur.

 

 

It was the commander who named her, barely standing, but none-the-less a family friend. Sick of death, and on the wake of a ceasefire, he looked down at the underdeveloped baby and named her the most peaceful name he could think of- Anya, meaning grace.

 

Anya Knight, the orphaned princesses of Polis, destined to live a boring life, comfortably living off her family’s accumulated wealth in a time of peace.

 

How wrong they were.

 

* * *

 

 

The Ark suddenly desperately need mechanics, desperately needs them now, and will desperately wait 18 years to have them ready to go. Everything with the Ark is fine, no need to worry. But there is a desperate need for mechanics.

 

That is what echoed throughout the Mecha station nine months before raven was born. The council was desperate enough to offer extra rations to Mecha family’s who were to give birth in the next year- after all, what is Mecha good for, if not mechanics. Of course they were not that desperate to allow a family to have more than one child, but for Raven’s mother, who otherwise was never going to have a child (if she could help it), extra rations seemed like the perfect motivation.

 

Raven never knew her father, neither did the rest of the Mecha station, but then again she never knew much about her mother, only that she liked the moonshine in the tall bottle, and that she’d burned her mark off long before she was born.

 

Her birth was relatively planned, and painless. Didn’t even call in for a doctor. The midwife delivered in just under three hours, and was out of the room in four. Obviously Raven can’t remember her birth, but she likes to think that her mother would have at least been happy then, the moment when she was first placed in her arms; that it’s not too selfish to think that she smiled.  

 

* * *

 

 

Anya was four when her mark came in. All the Knights get it at the same time, she’s told, told from books, told from the tales, told from the inside of her mind begging to believe that she’s still connected to them.

 

Anya grew up as a ward of the state, she should have been shipped out to a small village, one with a population that could handle a small child. But her family’s history meant that she couldn’t. She grew up wondering through meetings run by the commander (who made a full recovery weeks after her birth), waving her fathers’ heavy sword, unable to be tied down to any one carer. Her brother was holding the peace, unwavering in keeping their parent’s legacy, never staying in Polis for more than a moment, and although he made arrangements for her to be taken care of, he was too busy to stick to them.

 

All her learning was her own. Reading at 4, a second at 6, and graduated in a small ceremony at 13. Her parent’s would have been proud.

 

Her only downfall was that she never learnt Trigedasleng (not until she met Lexa). Perhaps that’s why her mark was in English. She was four and running back, alone from the stables. Her brother told her never to go alone, but thirty horses all to her name, how could she _not_.

 

The wind had clipped her helmet, pushing it forward and easily sliding it over her small head to cover her eyes. Loosing her balance Anya fell to the ground, entwining her hair into the labyrinth of bone and straw that was the Knight’s riding helmets.  

 

Running back to her room, the helmet tapping her shoulder still very much attached to her hair, at only four it seemed incredibly logical that the only solution was the cut it out. Grabbing the nearest sharp edge, Anya unapologetically sheared half of her hair off with shard of broken metal of unknown origin. Mid stroke the shard of metal blinked, a flash of black against her skin, followed by a small tingle. Anya ran to her house’s baths as fast as she could. In the twinkle of the newly drawn water Anya’s suspicious were confirmed, her other, written on a slant but beautifully naked with just five letters.

 

_Raven_

 

It’s a nice name, fits her neck quite well.

 

* * *

 

  

Raven’s mark wasn’t present for a long time, not like the kids in the alpha station; the rumours that said some of them are even _born_ with them on. She’d be lucky enough to even get one. Logically she knows that everyone gets one, but sometimes she thinks that her mother’s burn doesn’t really hide anything, and it’s all a cover up. Trust the Reyes to not get their mark.

 

Not that it mattered; getting food was hard enough, even harder to make it to class. It’s a miracle she lived past 6, why should she care what some name on her skin means.

 

At least she didn’t care until she met Finn.

 

Raven’s only 7 and it’s getting colder on the Ark, it’s concerning since she can’t remember it even being cold but she can hear the adults say it’s only the Agro and Mecha that are effected. They’re all full of spite, just like her mother, and it leaves a bad feeling in her stomach.

 

But she is cold, and thinks bitterly of the chancellors kid, he must be about her age; it’s hard to image they’d let him shiver.

 

She’s shivering next to the biggest window available to the Mecha station, trying to stay out of her room; it’s later than she’s ever stayed out before, but she can’t help it, the view is addictive.

 

It’s the same old space, but every time it feels so new. There are billions and billions of stars, like particles of light swirling together each giving a frame against the giant blue orb of earth. She’s taught that earth was once the most beautiful place, that the ark is a temporary existence before they make it back, but looking into the vast deep of space, Raven can’t help herself wishing they never go back.

 

“It’s too late to be out,” a little boy breaks her trance, and snaps her eyes from the window, but it’s okay, she’s looked before and she’ll look again.      

“Then why are you?” Raven spits back, she doesn’t mean to sound harsh, but honestly, if this boy calls his parents it’s not going to be fun when she next sees her mother.

 

He surprises her though, he doesn’t cry or run to his mother, or grab a guard to help her. He sits himself down next to her and pulls out a biscuit and a bottle of water.

 

“I’m Finn,” he says, breaking the biscuit in half, and giving the bottle into Raven’s hands, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. As if he didn’t realise the brevity of what he was doing.

 

“Raven,” Is all she can say, instantly accepting his kindness. He seems unfazed by her name, and Raven assuming that means his mark either doesn’t exist yet, or isn’t her name. It’s both a sad and comforting realisation; his kindness has no other motivation, but his long floppy hair and stupid off side smile he gives her as she’s explains the constellations makes her fingertips numb in a way that makes her feel like she wouldn’t mind if he was hers.

 

* * *

 

 

Of course war comes again. It always does. The alliance between the River and Wood clans is strong (so strong it’s only the wood clan now) but of course there are more clans, more land, filled with more people.

 

When her brother was sent even away from home, to the doorstep of the ice nation it was time for the unofficial princess of Polis to step up from her own shadows and take lead. The commander is only a child, but how long could she expect to stand on her family’s land by herself without giving back to her city? So at fourteen she meets Lexa and slides into command.

 

Perhaps her brother had been orchestrating this for years, it’s all too easy as it all falls into place. It takes one walk and all of 30 seconds. Anya approaches the command room, and takes the responsibility for all her luxury in life. Stepping over the threshold, as if a meeting had been called just for her although it was out of her own volition that she is here.

 

A small village girl is holding an audience amongst the chairs Anya grew up running around, the young girl is plain but has a playful look, and all at once Anya can’t help herself.

 

“You named me,” She states to this village girl, unaware of any social etiquette that would prohibit her interrupting this meeting. Anya is dressed in her mothers fur and with her brothers decorated knife at her hip. She gets to one knee and flips her knife presenting the hilt to the young girl.

 

“I will train you,” Its full of arrogance, the kind her brother would of scorned, but the sense of obligation is what fills Anya, so when the village girl takes the blade and utters,

 

“It’s nice to see you again” the others in the meeting accept without a second thought.

 

* * *

 

Raven’s mark comes in when she is 15. High school gets easier when you actually get to eat before hand, and she completes it two years before Finn. Although she trades in her seat in class next to him for a jump start at a career, he tells her he’s proud of her every step of the way. His mother even frames her valedictorian certificate when her own mother won’t even look at it.   

 

It’s the afternoon of the graduation, she had to give a speech, and she killed it – naturally. It’s a mess of adrenaline when the ceremony is over and as she looks over at the crowd she remembers when she was young and never though she’d go to school let alone have someone in the crowd smiling when she _finishes._ Finn’s holding a biscuit and a water bottle, waiting for her to be done with photos, he hasn’t changed his hair in eight years and he smile still looks just as stupid.

 

When he goes in the hug her when all the cameras have stopped, all the laughing around her is so loud, the joy is unlike anything she’s had in her life and she kisses him. He kisses back like she’s important to her, and at the time it feels like love. Her mother’s out and it takes thirty seconds of explaining to Finn’s parents, and two minutes to make it to the Reyes room before they’re kissing again.

 

She smiles into Finn, into accepting happiness, and falls onto her bed.

They don’t have sex that night, it’s not like that yet, but they kiss and kiss, as they say their dreams, drunk off the hope that comes from graduation. Finn is playing with the pieces of metal slowly accumulating on Raven’s bedside table.

 

“What? It’s from my radio,” She lightly hits him as he screws up his face taking in all the scrap around them.

 

“Like that makes it any better,” He plays picking up a long piece of smooth metal and bends it in half, finding in response Ravens hands wrapped around his sides to freeze his movements.

 

“Don’t break it!” She yelps pulling Finn back down onto her bed so she can continue the wrestle.

 

“What?” he challenges, placing one more kiss on her mouth before breaking free to continue his moulding with a wink “now it’s art,”

 

She gives in and thinks of a way to make her radio work with a missing piece, twenty minutes late when he presents her with a metal raven, she thinks, _screw it I didn’t like that radio anyway_. 

 

It’s the happiest she’s ever been, and when Finn leaves to go get dinner, promising to bring her back some, Raven runs to the biggest window in Mecha because she feels like swimming amongst the stars. 

 

Her left shoulder blade suddenly feels really _really_ hot, like it’s burning and it feels so fantastic because of the stark comparison that reminders of how cold she used to feel standing next to this window. Her instant reaction should be to run and find a mirror, but she knows what it says, and she feels so light that she thinks for a second she’s on the other side of the glass and she’s floating.

 

After Finn gets her, and they’ve eat the rest of Finn’s rations talking about the constellations. Raven goes back the her room, finds her mum passed out, _At least its on her bed_ , and takes a couple hand held mirrors so that with the right angles she can see her beautiful Finn scribbled on her back.

 

“Anya,” Raven breathes out in surprise, pulling at her shoulder blade making sure it’s not a trick of light.

 

It’s beautiful, and it’s scribbled, but it’s not Finn. She resides to throw a mirror to the ground, and ignores it and everything that comes with it. Finn is gorgeous, and kind, and probably sleeping only two doors down. She crawls into his room that night and falls asleep to his breathing. Anya be damned, she’s happy right here.

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t take long until Lexa doesn’t need to be a second, even less time until they go to war. The day they take off at 13 and 20, Anya can’t help but admire how beautifully Lexa takes on all the responsibilities of her people, she knows her people are lucky that she was not chosen to be commander, Lexa is equally village as she is filled with fire, burning with the passion and understanding of all their clans. Anya knows Polis, herself, and not much else. She wants the peace her parents longed for, and all to complete all the obligations she was born onto. But war is just something she’s _good_ at, it does not fuel her the way it fuels Lexa.

 

Lexa seems to be made of fuel, body too little for her ambition, not just in war but in life, her moves are calculated, but behind that her mind fires.

 

Maybe that’s why she’s the first one Anya speaks about her mark to.

 

They’re on the move, towards unstable regions, knowing that battles are too come, with every growing tension Lexa seems to fixate of the outer of her hand. Anya is redrawing the maps to account for recent movement, and Lexa paces.

 

“Do you think my Clarke could be female,” Lexa’s voice is soft but strong breaking through the sound of Anya’s charcoal scratching. It’s such a ridiculous question Anya forgets to answer it, “do you think it would be wrong?” she continues, as the charcoal continues to scratch, her voice quietens and Anya is filled with the reminiscent memories of Lexa when she first met her, “would the gods allow that?” she further continues into Anya’s silence before she finally responds.

 

“The gods are not real,” is all Anya offers, and it’s moments like this that perhaps she thinks it would of done her good to grown up around other children just like everyone else. She’d be happy to offer nothing else, but Lexa is perplexed, perhaps it what not common in her village, so she is compelled to reconcile her abrupt answer.

 

“It seems impossible to me that it matters what gender your affections belong to,” Anya manages, “besides mine is female,”

 

The charcoal continues, as does the pacing, Lexa now residing to hold the back of her hand.

 

“May I see it?” Lexa asks. It’s a simple question, one Anya would have heard a hundred times in another life, but it startles her because she’s never been asked before.

 

Without any more pressing the charcoal stops, she lifts her hair and displays the back of her neck to Lexa.

 

“Raven,” Lexa mouths to the back of Anya head, lightly tracing the letters.

 

“You must be anxious to meet her,” Lexa says after Anya has let her hair down and restarted her drawing.

 

“I suppose,” She replies calmly examining her map that is almost at completion, it seems redundant to have another ‘half’ as the superstitions say, she doesn’t feel halved, “can you send in Indra to check my map?”

 

With that the conversation is over as easily as it started, after Indra’s nod of approval Anya sends out her map with an order to restrict the search for Lexa’s Clarke to just females, she doesn’t start a search for her Raven, but she does have the thought.

 

* * *

 

 

The first person Raven showed her mark to was Clarke. And it wasn’t even on purpose.

 

She’d been sleeping with Finn for months, but with a little bit of effort, and the right foundation is was easy to conceal.

 

It’d only hurt him to see it anyway, seeing as he doesn’t have one, or at least she hasn’t seen it yet. It doesn’t matter anyway; Raven’s not going to let a mark dictate whom she loves, and hopes she knows Finn well enough that he wouldn’t either.

 

She was 17, and had started her final phase of studying for Zero-G exam. It’s not strictly necessary to practically apply everything that should be _theoretically_ known for the exam, but Raven is not going to be the best mechanic by doing only what is necessary.

 

And so she find herself in an illegal area tinkering in a very illegal way with equipment she shouldn’t know even exists. She’s nearly done when a sudden lack of gravity takes over (they should really fix those) and a wire snaps and catches the length of her back. It doesn’t feel too bad but unfortunately by the feel of her increasingly damp top as soon as the gravity is fixed she’s making her way to medical hoping to have a few stiches and be on her way.

 

It’s pretty late- when else could Raven break into a restricted area, so when she walks into medical she’s not surprised that the regular doctor isn’t there, but a very young, very pretty blonde is instead.

 

“I remember you, you had burns up your thigh,” the blonde interjects as soon as Raven crosses the threshold into the bay.

 

“Your parents were so hysterical my mum was gone for ages,” she further continues, pulling a chair for her, and arranging a few sheets so that a bed is free.

 

“They weren’t my parents.” Raven replies,

 

“Oh well that’s okay, come, I’ll see your cut,” the medic starts to shuffle medical supplies, ending with finding some adhesive cream, “I can see your shirt from here it’s soaked with blood come sit, you must be in pain,”

 

Raven’s reluctance must be written all over her face because it takes no more prompting for the medic to start talking again.

 

“If you’re under 18 don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, and you won’t have your rations charge, I was signed off for basic cuts last week, I’ll do it,”

 

She offers her a small smile before gently grasping her hands together.  


“Lets begin then, shall we, you’re probably as eager as I am to close this, lets agree to call it basic, cut” her words are confident as she nods to Raven’s shirt, obviously expecting her to take it off, like, yesterday.  

 

“You can look, but keep in mind I’m not single,” Raven swipes her top off in one fluid movement. She’s flirting, and she doesn’t know why, it’s just a nervous response. She also fidgets with her metal necklace, once she’s secured a position lying on her stomach on the bed.

 

“I’m Clarke,” the medic then states, “probably should have mentioned that when you came in,”

 

“Raven,”

 

“Nice to meet you, it’s not too deep so I actually don’t have to call anyone else, I’ll just clean it and put some cream that acts like glue to hold it in place. Sorry in advance the cream might be a little cold”  

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll heat it up,”

 

Clarke bursts into a giggle, puts her gloves on, and starts to apply the cream, which reluctantly earns a shiver from Raven.

 

“That’s it, that’s really the line you’re going to work off,”

 

“I’d like to think my back is hot enough it doesn’t matter what I say,” she counters flexing a bit for show.

 

“Weren’t you taken anyway,” Clarke continues, stopping when she reaches her shoulder blade, “better not let Anya know you were sucking up to the hot girl in medical.”

 

Raven instantly freezes. Damn. Of course she didn’t cover it up, she wasn’t expecting to get naked in front of anyone today.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m not going to tell, it’s harmless anyway,” Clarke laughs a bit, still cleaning the wound.

 

“Anya though, pretty name, Russian derived, is she from Agro?” she continues.

 

“I’m dating someone else, I haven’t met her yet,” Raven replies.

 

This causes Clarke to stop what she’s doing if only for a moment and looks up from the cut; trying to stay professional she forces herself to keep going.

 

“If my mark was that easy to find I wouldn’t bother with anyone else,” she mutters under her breathe.

 

“I’m not going to throw away a perfectly good relationship because of some stupid mark, I don’t even care if I meet Anya, I love him,” Raven is hasty, offended at how simply this Clarke can trivialise her life. What are they, meant to live their whole lives just searching for that one person, and then what? Fall into their arms instantly? Whatever, she can get someone else to clean her cut.

 

“Woaahhh,” Clarke grips her shoulder gliding her back to the bed, “I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just anxious because I don’t know who my mark is. I’m nearly done, don’t pull apart the cut because I’m an idiot.”

 

Raven is easily persuaded despite herself, she knows she needs Clarke, she doesn’t know anyone with even basic first aid.

 

“My friend is having a party tomorrow, you should come,” Clarke tries to make it sound as inviting as possible.   

 

“It’s not in the chancellors room is it,” Raven retorts smiling playfully,

 

“No,” Clarke giggles, now mirroring Raven’s smile, “It’s in Agro station,” she finishes, holding her breathe for the inevitable.

 

The harsh reply though never comes.

 

“Yeah okay,” Raven whispers back.

 

“Great! I’m pretty much done here as soon as a put on this bandage, avoid getting it wet just for the first few hours, if the skin comes apart please come seem me again, but otherwise don’t worry the glue will dissolve on it’s own,” Clarke finishes taping the last of the area, “Lets meet here tomorrow at 18:00, I’ll take you to the party.”

 

Raven hops off the table with her back feeling a little weird but admittedly a lot better.

 

“Cool, I guess I’ll see you there,” Raven’s about to leave when turns to Clarke while she’s throwing away the used supplies into various containers for cleaning, she’s also very much aware that Raven has not put her shirt back on.

 

“Hey Clarke,” she mutters grabbing her attention; her voice is soft and sincere. This is the part that Clarke loves, helping people; she knows Raven is about to give her a heartfelt thankyou.

 

“Do you think it’ll make a hot scar?”

 

“Put your shirt on Raven,” Clarke tosses her the slightly bloody shirt, whatever; she knows she’s thankful.   

 

* * *

 

 

Clarke is painfully on time. Or at least that’s what she painfully eludes to as Raven rocks up a few minutes late.

 

“I was basically early,” Raven says in great exasperation, “I was mecha early, it’s basically the same things,”

 

“Yeah sure, keep telling yourself that,” Clarke remarks, a hint of a wink is detected but Raven calks it up to her paranoia.

 

The walk only for a few minutes until a loud buzz rings in their ears.

 

“I can practically hear the teenage angst,” Raven remarks, secretly loving the scene that is unfolding.

 

“Yeah well welcome to agro,” Clarke responds, holding her arm open in a half ironic, half serious gesture. “Hope you enjoy your stay,” she continues, “the emergency exits are two your right, and for all you customer needs look to your stewardesses,” she pauses to make sure she has Raven’s attention, “ Which are highly skilled to cater to your needs,” Clarke finally finishes.

 

“Is that right?” Raven questions, impressed with the scope of the party.

 

More than a dozen kids have turned up, which is more than can be said for the mecha raves. Moonshine, and other more organic agro condiments are present in abundance, and well, Clarke is here. Not that Raven would admit it, but it’s turning into a half decent event.

 

“So what can I serve you,” Clarke continues, exaggeratedly waving to the moonshine, and then to various plants, “to make your visit more pleasant,” it’s almost smooth but as she’s gesturing a few cups spill onto the ground.

 

“After that display I’ll be having neither,” Raven smirks, the hot medic’s nervous, it’s cute, “I have to study in the morning anyway, you don’t become the youngest mechanic being hung over all the time,” _like my mum_.

 

“Fair enough,” Clarke smiles and nods her head, bending over making sure her low cut top fulfils it’s purpose for tonight (except looking great in general), and also to collect the cups she’s knocked over, “but you’re obviously less skilled than I am, I never get hung over.”

 

“Is that right?” Raven coughs out, hoping Finn never knows how affected she is by Clarke.

 

“Trick is,” she starts, concentrating on pouring a generous cup of moonshine for herself, “go hard,” she skulls a cup and then pours another, “but then go home sober,”

 

“So we’re stuck here for a while,” Raven muses pouring a cup of water so that she has a cup to hold and not be left out.

 

“Sure are,” Clarke takes her hand and leads her to game of ‘Queens cup’ “better tell that boy you’re dating not to stay up,” she gently drops her hand and abruptly stops so that Raven almost physically bangs into her, they’re inches apart and Clarkes eye brows scrunch a bit, “unless you’re meeting him here?”

 

It’s a bit startling because Raven honestly never even considered the idea, and maybe she should of. In a split second her shoulder burns and she allows herself consider that if Finn where here, she wouldn’t be. She’ll scorn herself later for it, and admit it to no one; maybe that’s why she says what she says.

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” She tilts her head up a bit so she looks confident. Their eye contact is so intense and consuming that when she licks her lips they feel dry.

 

“Well then,” Clarke finally breaks the stare her eyes flickering to her lips, just briefly. She grabs a worn card announcing their presence in the game and slides it to Raven; “it’s your go.”

 

“Nine, what’s that?” Raven’s equally embarrassed that she doesn’t know the rules, as she is as how much she wants Clarke to tell her them.

 

“Rhyme,” Clarke says as if it’s an explanation, biting her lip, they’re leaning in close she can feel her body warmth just like she can feel her shoulder blade.

 

“It means you have to bust out you’re best rhyme, time to rap it out!” A dorky kid with goggles interrupts, his drink spills because he’s waving his arms carelessly, and Raven scans the groups of 6 or so people that are looking at her expectedly.

 

“Okay but I hope you’re ready for all this,” she physically rises to the challenge and her peers laugh at whatever she can come up with, when she finishes she sits back down and Clark laughs hysterically and nudges her shoulder with her own as a well done. She thinks maybe Clarke is beginning to feel the moonshine, because she doesn’t move it the whole game.

 

Clarke ends up with the queen’s cup, and they play three other drinking games that she ends up _winning_. Raven has learnt several embarrassing things about Clarke, and a few more impressive ones. Although she hasn’t had a sip of moonshine it’s the drunk spirit that gets her to spill a few of her own.

 

Raven is teaching Clarke a mecha dance in the corner when two gorgeous strangers walk up to introduce themselves, it’s a boy and girl who are so similarly textbook beautiful that they could be siblings. It’s obvious the boy is eying out Clarke and that the girl has just tagged along.

 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen all night,” the boy walks up behind Clarke. She takes no notice; except to give a look at Raven that’s almost daring but ultimately asks her what she’s going to do next, thinking the boy is talking to Raven. Raven laughs a bit at the irony, for all that game Clarke talked up she’s clearly missing a few cues.

 

“Her name is Clarke, and mine’s Raven,” it’s then that Clarke get it and whips round to see her suitor.      

 

“Alex,” he takes Clarkes hand and then kisses it, it’s sweet but Raven can see it’s not exactly working, Raven can barely contain herself _I can’t wait for this to all pan out_ , she thinks and she lazily lets her eyes drift to Clarkes lips.

 

“And this is my older sister Anya,”

 

It’s like a window has been shattered and all the air has been sucked out of the room. Raven looks hopelessly at quite possibly her one true love- her soul mate. It’s not as if Raven believes in fairy-tales and thought that she’d know right away, that her whole body would be lit with an eternal flame, but she doesn’t want the moment she meets the love of her life to be this one. Because all she can think it’s how kissable Clarke looked stumbling through her 5th grade dance, and how the girl is too tall, and too reserved, and a little bit too old, and how is she going to explain to her kid that she spent the night that she met their other mother flirting with the medic who was all she could think about when she heard her name. And how she was dating a sweet boy, and oh god _Finn._

 

But not a moment later Clarke asks Alex to pour her some water and as he does she points to Anya’s ankle which spells out “Nathan”.

 

It’s incredibly relieving, but a wave of guilt washes over her. God, it shouldn’t feel that heavy to meet someone who should make you irrevocably happy. It’s meant to feel exciting, or it’s meant to be the moment she realises how much more she wants Finn, it’s meant to feel like anything but this. And suddenly she see’s herself 10 years from now burning off her own mark because she never felt the way she should, and it _scares_ her.

 

So when Clarke announces she’s sobering up, and drags her away from the gorgeous Alex and Anya, she lets herself be pulled behind Clarke in the patch of dancing kids.

 

It takes about half an hour for Clarkes movements to look more controlled, and Raven has to hand it to her she’s nearly sober and the party isn’t even close to being over. It’s then that Raven stupidly leans in to yell some praise over the music just as Clarke decided she desperately needs to say something as well. The result is that no one says a word, and they’re so close that she can feel her breath on her cheek, that is until they’re not breathing and Clarke’s cheeks are pink. Raven’s brain is short-circuiting and she goes to admire Clarke’s sobriety, but it barely comes out as a whisper, and in _Spanish._

 

“Fuck that’s hot,” Clarke tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, which is probably gross with sweat, cups her jaw, and kisses her. A couple more words in Spanish escape Raven’s mouth before she realise what’s happening. Although she’s kissed a hundred times before, it feels brand new. Clarke is soft, and although she’s encouraging the contact it’s Raven that keeps pulling herself in. She’s not even sure where her hands are, but she can feel how amazing the pressure of Clarke’s lips feel against hers. Like she only wants to leave them so she can feel them pressed against hers again, inexplicably drawn back to kissing her. It’s intoxicating, and almost frustrating how much she wants Clarke right now.

 

They leave the party about an hour later. An hour of casual laughing between kisses before Raven caves and asks her if she wants to go back to her room. She knows logically Clarke probably has family who wouldn’t be too impressed with her bring someone home, but she’s reluctant to show someone from Alpha station her room. But then Clarke bits her lip and compares the human anatomy to the inside of a machine.

 

They stumble down the hallways of Mecha, not because Clarke is anything but sober, but because she’s roped Raven into some ridiculous game of don’t step on the crack (but you have to hop, and then spin around, and then kiss me, and then say a favourite book, and then, and then, and then).

 

When they finally reach ‘casa de Reyes’ Clarke is nuzzling her neck and Raven’s sides hurt from laughing, she forgets to care about the sub-par living arrangements, or that he bed is probably half the size of the ones they’ve got in Alpha. Her mum is out _thank god_ doing god knows what, and Raven counts herself lucky.

 

Their shirts come off quickly, Clarke taking the lead to kiss as much of Raven as she can, especially the concerning amount of scars.

 

“Wait,” Raven pulls back panting but smiling wide, and squints at Clarke, “just checking this isn’t your first time,”

 

“How did you know?” she giggles, going back to kissing the top of her breast, “both a boy and a girl,” she continues to giggle, kissing her jaw now, “but not at the same time, at least not yet, anyway. What about you?”

 

“Only boy so far,” Clarke stops instantly and looks Raven in the eye considering her statement.

 

“We can stop if you want, or just not go any further, it’s been a while since making out has felt this good, I’d be happy to do this for six hours,” Raven considers it, but oddly doesn’t feel nervous.

 

Clarke gives a little squeak as Raven flips them around so that she’s now pressing her body on top of Clarke and captures her lips in her own.

 

“I’m all in if you are,” She breaks, her lips forming a light smile, as her hands snake round the lightly tickle Clarke’s stomach “I’ve always been great with my hands,”

 

Clarke laughs as she welcomes another kiss.

  

Hours later when the lights flicker on, and Raven’s head is pressed against Clarke’s heart beat she traces the lines of her mark ‘Lexa’ she asks Clarke how she can believe so fully in her soul mate and yet love her (of sorts) so freely.

 

“I’ll find her,” Clarke whispers, tangling her fingertips in Raven’s hair, “doesn’t mean I can’t have fun until I do,” Raven leans up and kisses her, admiring how simply and wholly she can believe in her Lexa.

 

“It’s no different to what you’re doing with Finn,” Clarke moves her hand from her hair, to tracing the burn marks on her legs. A fresh wave of guilt comes over Raven, as she realises she forgot about Finn, she buries herself into Clarkes chest, groaning, and hates herself for noticing how nice she smells.

 

“Oh god I forgot about Finn,”

 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have forgotten if it was Anya.”

 

She whacks her with a pillow, and they don’t get up for four more hours.


End file.
